Category Archives: Published Elsewhere

THUNDERSTONE (paperback)(Kindle ebook), by Shawna Walls, is about a young Dwarf woman who goes on adventures. It is an awesome YA novel set in a fantasy world that is based on the Pacific Northwest; the dwarves live in the Mountain! *grin*

I actually researched Russian dress and embroidery for Mirya’s dress and for the engravings on the axe. The author had specifically said that the Dwarves should be Russianesque, so I really wanted an authentic feel for her clothes and the axe design.

I’m not a 24-year-old womanWhen she comes aroundI’m instantly maleAnd 14“Haha, you said hard”And other such witticismsAre all that emerge from my lipsI have two left feetAll awkward and elbowsDorky to the maxAnd wanting to just snap my fingersTo makemeCLEVERagain.

(Posted on August 11, 2008, in my Livejournal. Written by younger Me.)

There is no particular reason, except that it feels as if someone somewhere must be cried for, whether they be happy tears, sad tears, angry tears, or tears unknown.

Sometimes, I feel like laughing.

There is no particular reason, except that it feels as if someone somewhere must be laughed for, whether it is happy laughter, nervous laughter, derisive laughter, or laughter unknown.

Sometimes, I feel like singing.

There is no particular reason, except that it feels as if someone somewhere must be sung for, whether it is joyful songs, tragic songs, defiant songs, or songs unknown.

We are all connected, in ways dark, mysterious, and strange, in manners strong, deep, and enduring, in fashions electric and liquid and brightly burning, and in patterns known and unknown. Isolation does not become us. We, like many other, are pack animals.

Cry for your sisters,
Laugh for your brothers,
Sing for your lovers,
And for yourselves.

Thursday morning and I hit the ground running
Hit it so fast it didn’t see me coming
Climbing the wall
Trying not to fall
But to finish I will have to be cunning!

Today’s list is over-large and reptilian
My tasks number well over seventy million
Godzilla is smaller
Than my to-do tower
So perhaps I should call Nathan Fillion.

Mal Reynolds could possibly help me, I think
Bring me back from the black and away from the brink
And if help’s not the thing
I will crazily sing
As I’m hauled away by whitecoats to the shrink.

“So take my desk, take my phone
Tell me that I’m all alone.
I don’t care, I still see
You won’t take my list from me
Take me out or I will crack
And you won’t want me comin’ back
Burn my papers, boil my tea
You won’t take my list from me
And it will eat my sanity.”

Title of the work: They Just Were
Author/Artist: foxipher
Pairing: Winry Rockbell/Sheska
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Theme: #15: perfect blue (this was a theme challenge for the 30_kisses Livejournal community 6 years ago)
Disclaimer: None of the characters or worlds in this story are mine. They are property of their respective owners. Sheska’s last name is a fangirling of Lieutenant Commander Susan Ivanova from Babylon 5. Yomiko Readman (alternate universe) is from Read or Die.
Rating: PG-13

Warning: Movie spoilers, shoujo-ai.

If anyone could wear their heart in their eyes, Winry Rockbell was the champion. She could never hide what she felt, and it bothered her sometimes. It never ceased to amaze her clients when they saw the intensity in her eyes around anything involving automail. They placed their trust in her, because they saw the confidence and ability in her eyes. For those critical minutes, they were perfect, the shining blue antidote to the fears and apprehensions that accompany many medically mechanical surgeries.

*******

For as long as Sheska Ivanova could remember, she loved the written word. Her earliest memory was of her childhood friend Yomiko, who was six years her senior, teaching her how to read letters and sound out simple words like “cat” or “dog”. Sheska had inherited the love of books from her parents, who were both middle-class, well-educated people. Books were her solace and her comfort. She would wander among shelves of them, stroking their spines and caressing their covers with a lover’s touch. Her childhood favorite, “The Little Alchemist That Could”, was so well-loved that it was falling to pieces, but to her, its familiar blue cover was perfect.

*******

Neither woman could point out exactly why or when it happened, but they both became somewhat aware of it after their adventures in phone-tapping. They began to spend more time together, Sheska reading voraciously as Winry tinkered with this or that project. They settled into a comfortable friendship that involved more companionable silence than talking, and they liked it that way. Winry knew that anything she said to Sheska while reading would have to be repeated at least three times, and Sheska knew that moving Winry’s projects or tools was a good way to make her angry. Nothing much happened, not even after they had realized that Ed and Al were gone through the Gate for good.

And yet, something was indeed different.

Winry would lean on the back of Sheska’s chair and read over her shoulder if she was reading anything mechanical, and Sheska would feign unawareness of Winry’s soft breasts brushing her upper back, and of her breath quiet in her ear. Likewise, Winry would start lively discussions on something they’d read, and she’d pretend not to be attracted to the sparkle in Sheska’s eyes as she bloomed beneath the attention. They both felt vaguely unsettled, but couldn’t or wouldn’t admit the true roots of their feelings to themselves.

One hot summer afternoon, the two women were sitting underneath a tree to escape the heat. Winry’s neck was stiff from building automail all morning, and Sheska had removed her glasses to give her eyes a rest. Both were grateful for the break, and they sat companionably next to each other, chatting about not-much-at-all. Winry stretched, moving her neck and lifting her arms. Sheska had closed her eyes, and opened them to find Winry’s gently smiling face about twelve inches from her own.

‘Why did I never see’, she thought, ‘how perfectly blue her eyes are?’

As Winry’s soft lips touched her own, Sheska closed her eyes again and soared.

Title: Oblivious
Author/Artist: Me, originally posted on my Livejournal
Pairing: Simon Tam/Kaylee Frye
Fandom: Firefly
Theme: #1, Look Over Here (this was a theme challenge for the 30_kisses Livejournal community 6 years ago)
Disclaimer: None of the characters or worlds in this story are mine. They are property of their respective owners.
Rating: PG-13

Kaylee always thought the doctor was real handsome. His dark hair begged to be stroked, as did other bits of him, but he never paid her any mind at all. She’d never wanted anyone so badly, but it wasn’t just about putting something between her nethers, oh no, it wasn’t. Kaylee was downright smitten.

*******

Jayne was rather disgruntled. He took a liking to Kaylee, in his own rough-edged way, and he’d wanted her to want him, at least for a night or two, anyway. Her full hips and bottom begged to be squeezed, as did other bits of her, but she never paid him any mind at all. He’d never wanted anyone so badly, but he had no idea how to go about getting her attention, so he just went to his bunk and thought of her long and hard.

*******

Simon loved his sister very much. Her frail body hid a mind so terribly broken and powerful that it scared him sometimes. He would, and had, done almost anything to protect her, and never gave much of a thought to himself, not once. He was resolute that he would protect River at all costs, and she was his sole focus. He saw, and he was blind.

*******

River watched. All the time, she watched, and listened. She saw with her eyes closed, and heard with her mind, and she giggled. “You are such a boob.” She knew. Oh, did she. That girl with the bright eyes, she wanted Simon. He’d notice if he turned around. She peeked down at him. Yes, he was always like that. Smart, but oh, so very silly.

*******

Kaylee averted her eyes and sighed mournfully as the only official couple on the ship locked lips. ‘Well, no doctor for me today, that’s for sure.’ She frowned wistfully. ‘Another night with just me and Serenity. She may be beautiful, but she don’t do anything for a lonely girl, that’s for certain sure.’

(Written on 02-16-2003, by me, posted in a now-private LJ entry. Poem based on One Ring poem by J.R.R. Tolkien.)

Three times did Simon Peter the Lord deny,
Seven days God took to create His own,
Nine feet was less than Goliath was high,
One God through His Son His great love has shown,
Through Calvary where Jesus died.

One King to rule them all,
One God to find them,
One Lord to bring them all
And in His mercy bind them
Through Calvary where Jesus died.

Something I wrote for my then-boyfriend, on 08-15-2004, on an old locked LJ post.

Tell me
I can’t always see
I love you
Don’t hold back
Don’t hurt me
Just tell me
Something wrong
We’ll make it right
Don’t go away
Talk to me
Cry with me
With two it’s
Never quite as hard
To bear.
Don’t lie to me
Don’t say to me
“I don’t need you there”
Just tell me
What’s going on
Tell me
I love you.

(Later I realized many things, including that I put up with way too much bullshit from him.)